I need a AU or a fanfic or something of a What If where Shepard wakes up not inside a Cerberus facility but inside the collectorâs base as the Human Reaper
The fact Cerberus dosent pay for my fuel in ME2 is so rude like you spent billions rebuilding me from meat but wonât also pay for my spaceship fuel?? Fuckin assholes
Something about Jackie who is forcefully associated with rabbits, who are symbols of innocence, traditional femininity and fertility (heterosexuality stay with me) all being things she hated and then in fandom spaces being associated with rabbits and their innocence (the refusal to acknowledge her wrong doings), traditional femininity (being headcanoned as more hyper femme) and then fertility/heterosexuality (people viewing her as straight despite subtext)
Something about how much like people from wiskayok, the fandom sees Jackie as their perfect little princess and as a martyr......
What if Jackie didnât die that night because Nat went out to get her? What if Nat was the only one who didnât ostracize Jackie in the woods like everyone else did? What if they both bonded over their shared hatred of the wilderness religion and the growing insanity in the group? What if Nat held Jackie as she broke down after their first hunt? What if they realized out there that despite their differences, they had the same ache in their hearts? What if Nat made the suicide pact with Jackie along with Travis, because she knew that the both of them would struggle the rest of their lives? What if Jackie got the unconditional love from Nat that she never could with Shauna? What if Jackie was the only one who wasnât scared of Natâs troubles? What if it was the both of them in the end?
Autistic and depressed Jackie Taylor who DOES care about Shauna but who wasn't able to pick up on tone and so never realised anything was wrong.
Autistic and depressed Jackie Taylor who always felt different and alienated from those around her so she tried so hard to force herself into 'the perfect girl'.
Autistic and depressed Jackie Taylor who represses her emotions so much that sometimes she gets overwhelmed by the smallest thing and can't stop crying.
Autistic and depressed Jackie Taylor who found that Shauna was the only person she could let herself relax and unmask around.
Autistic and depressed Jackie Taylor who never liked Jeff but forced herself to because she couldn't handle being different from those around her.
Autistic and depressed Jackie Taylor whose tether was Shauna, keeping her grounded and giving her the will to continue.
Autistic and depressed Jackie Taylor who let herself die in the wilderness because she was just so tired of it all.
SoâŠ. Solo artist Demon!Rumi x Hunters Zomira, anyone?
The twist is their hunting her.
Rumi slammed through the exit door, sprinting down the alleyway without really seeing where shes going. Her chest hurts from all the running, shes been at it for almost an hour now, moving from building to building in the hopes of losing her pursuers.
Turning sharply, Rumi ducked behind a dumpster and crouched in place, holding her breath. She knows that if they find her here again, she wonât be making it far. Her leg still throbs from the earlier cut, and she still hadnât managed to find anything to clean or wrap it with.
The door she just came from slams open again, she doesnât bother looking. Theyâre always just that little bit too close, that little bit too fast, for her to find a good hiding spot. She just has to hope they give up when they canât immediately see her.
Footsteps, so soft she almost missed them, start making their way down the alley towards her hiding spot.
Dont find me please dont find me I canât run anymore please
The footsteps pause when they reached the dumpster. Rumi held her breath, hoping, praying that theyâd leave her alone.
Whatever god cursed her with her birth marks must have chosen to give her a modicum of mercy, because the pair of footsteps slowly receded.
Rumi waits several seconds until she hears the door to the office shut. Letting out a sigh of relief, Rumi reached her hand out around the dumpster, starting to pull herself out.
Something impossibly strong grabs her wrist, yanking her harshly out from behind the dumpster. Pain flashes through her as shes slammed into the wall beside it, an arm at her throat pinning her there.
Rumi lets out a ragged gasp of pain, squeezing her eyes shut. She doesnât want to be here, she wants to be back in the studio with Bobby, she wants to feel safe again.
The hand at her throat tightened harshly, making Rumi try to gasp as her eyes flew open, her hands jumping to grab at it.
âHow are you affecting the Honmoon like that, demon?â
The girl holding her by her throat is wearing glasses, her cheeks flushed with the exertions of the chase. Under different circumstances, Rumi mightâve found her beautiful.
But right now?
Rumiâs never been so scared in her life.
âAnswer me!â The girl shook her, her pink hair falling over her face from the aggressive movements.
Rumi tried to answer, but she couldnât get enough air in her lungs to answer. A dry, rasping sound left her throat as she clawed weakly at the hand around her throat.
âMira! She canât answer if youâre choking her!â
A second girl, standing by the door with her hand on its handle, speaks up then. (Ah, so theyâd used it to trick her.)
The girl holding Rumi, Mira, glances over at the dark haired one. âZoey, if I let up at all, itâll probably scream for help.â
Shes right, but Rumi wonât say it.
âShe wonât. Because if she does,â Zoey pulled out two knives from seemingly thin air, making Rumiâs eyes widen in surprise and terror. âThen we just send her back to Gwi-ma!â
Well. There goes the âscream for helpâ plan. It sounds like theyâll just kill her if she tries.
Mira considers the idea for a moment, her grip tightening slightly and making Rumi gasp for breath, before she let her grip relax somewhat.
Rumi dragged in greedy breaths of air, still holding onto the arm attached to her throat. Zoeyâs standing next to Mira now, balancing the knife on the tip of her finger as they waits for Rumi to catch her breath.
âL-look, I donât have much money, but Iâll give you everything I promise!â The two look stunned for a moment, so Rumi keeps going. âI-I wonât tell the police or the tabloids anything, just please-â
Shes cut off by Mira slamming a fist into the wall beside her head, making her flinch in fear.
Mira slowly draws her hand back, glaring at Rumi as she does so. âDrop the act, or I will break your arm. Understood?â
Rumi tries to figure out what on earth she means. She isnât acting, shes terrified right now! These two maniacs followed her from the bus stop, then chased her for over an hour across Seoul without a single cop somehow seeing them, before slamming her into a wall and choking her!
âIâm not acting, I swear! Iâll give you whatever you want just-â
Mira grabs her arm then, pulling it down in an angle. Rumi barely has a moment to register the movement before Miraâs knee comes up and pain explodes across Rumiâs arm.
She wouldâve dropped to the ground if not for the hand around her throat, the same one thatâs keeping her from screaming.
The pain is blinding, and Rumi is too distracted by it to notice when the tears first started falling.
After a few minutes of hyperventilating, Rumi slowly came back to herself. The first thing she notices is that sheâs not being held by her throat anymore. The second is that her forearm is currently bent 45 degrees in the wrong direction.
But the third, and possibly most important, is the glowing blade pointing at her chest.
Rumi flinches, leaning against the wall as far back as she can. The blade stays pointed at her chest, and it takes several seconds for her to slowly look up towards the metal attached to it, following it with her eyes to the hands that had moment ago broken her arm.
Miraâs standing there, her eyes narrowed. Rumi risks a glance to the side, spotting Zoey talking into her phone while turned away from her.
Not wanting to risk angering her captors, Rumi huddles as tightly as she can into a ball, keeping her eyes on the blade in front of her.
Zoey finishes the conversation a few moments later, ending the call with a muted click. She turns back around as she slips her phone into her pocket, walking back over to where Mira and Rumi are.
Zoeyâs giving Rumi an odd look, like shes some kind of mystery meat in a meal shes reconsidering. It reminds Rumi too much of how people reacted when she tried to produce music the first time.
Sheâd let her patterns show then. Hadnât hidden her face from the public. Sheâd learned her lesson after the third time someone told her to her face that she should cover up more.
âCelineâs bringing the car around now. Shes already almost here, apparently shes been following us with the phone trackers.â
Zoeyâs voice yanks Rumi out of her thoughts, making her flinch in surprise. The sudden movement makes her arm move, making her hiss in pain and causing more tears to fall.
She doesnât notice the blade lifting away from her, but she does become uncomfortably aware of how close Zoey is when she crouches right in front of Rumi. Rumi flinches again, this time biting back the hiss of pain.
Zoey looks almost⊠concerned, which is laughable considering what she and Mira have been doing to Rumi.
Nodding to herself, Zoey stands back up, turning to Mira behind her. âYeah, clean break. Itâs not a fake blood pack, like you thought. Whatever she is, she isnt just a demon.â Zoey turns back to look down at Rumi, the concern now mixed with something Rumi canât quite identify.
The sound of breaks squeaking draws all three womanâs attentions to the alleyway entrance, where an unmarked van pulls to a stop. No one gets out, but Mira and Zoey nod to each other.
Zoey crouches next to Rumi, reaching towards her before pausing at the way Rumi flinches. âIâm sorry, but until we know youâre not dangerous you have to come with us.â Her hand closes on Rumiâs upper arm, lifting her with more strength then her small body led Rumi to assume she had.
Shit. Bobby had told her that if ever someoneâs taking her to a secondary location, theyâre probably going to try to kill her. Opening her mouth, Rumi starts screaming.
âHE-â
A cloth is shoved into her mouth, cutting her off and choking her slightly. Zoeyâs hand is still on her arm, keeping her from pulling back far enough to get away or pull it out.
Another womanâs standing in the alleyway now, gray hair mixed with black the only sign of her advanced age.
âMira, Zoey, get her in the car now. We can worry about the broken arm when we figure out what she is.â
She speaks sharply, leaving no room to argue or ask questionâs. Rumi tries to spit out the cloth, but Miraâs hand covers her mouth as the two young women march her towards the car.
The pain in her arm flares, drawing more pained tears from her eyes as she fights. But shes outnumbered, overpowered, and exhausted.
Rumi doesnt know when she passed out from the pain, or for how long, but the next thing sheâs aware of is something tight cutting into her good arm.
Slowly opening her eyes, Rumi looks about. It appears shes in some kind of office, left laying on the floor. Sitting up slowly, Rumi becomes uncomfortably aware of the weight on her arm, and a quick glance confirms her fears. A manacle and chain are on her arm, attached to the floor.
Theres no telling how far they are from help, or if anyone would help if they were close enough. She doesnât even know whos kidnapped her, or why.
Her left arm is wrapped now, bandages covering the broken bone. It still hurts, but not quite as badly as it did before.
The door across from her clicked, drawing Rumiâs attention as she curled into a tight ball. She squeezes her eyes shut as it opens, not wanting to see whoever would be hurting her yet.
It takes several moments before Rumi can force herself to open her eyes. She flinched when she sees the familiar pink hair and glasses. The unfamiliar part is the look of guilt on her face, but Rumi doesnât trust it for a second.
The two regard each other for several seconds, neither willing to break the silence first.
Finally, Mira shifts, looking away for a second before glancing back. âCan you tell me something?â
Rumi doesnt move, not trusting herself to tell this woman whatever it is she wants to hear. After a few moments of silence, Mira shrugs.
âIâll ask, and if you can answer me thisâll go a lot easier for both of us.â She says it like it makes any more sense. Itâd probably help more if sheâd say what she wanted to know, but Rumiâs not gonna say something thatâll get anything else broken.
âAre you a demon?â
Rumi blinks. She had expected a lot of questions, like her banking info, numbers for celebrityâs she knows, or even once Bobbyâs personal number.
But a demon? Rumi doesnt even want to guess what thatâs about.
Mira is watching Rumi intently, clearly waiting for an answer. Without unfurling herself or soeaking, Rumi shakes her head once.
A clear no.
Mira rubs at her eyes, as if trying to clean away some kind of lie.
It appears she still sees the same thing, if the way her mouth slightly tightens is any indication.
Several more seconds of staring at each other, Mira turns, walking away and out the door.
It clangs shut behind her, making Rumi flinch.
Rumi slowly puts her good arm around her legs, pulling herself into a ball. The tears start falling despite her best efforts, the fear, adrenaline, and everything else catching up finally.
__
Mira can hear the sounds of crying even through the door. Itâs like a knife, stabbing into her heart with each choked gasp.
She messed up. She messed up bad.
If Zoeyâs theoryâs is at all correct, then not only have they been hunting a woman for the last hour, not only had Mira broken her arm, she had also helped kidnap her.
Whatever this girl is, shes having the worst day of her life, and now Miraâs sure she doesnât know what a demon is.
All Mira can do now is hope Celine has some kind of plan.
I uh, may have gotten slightly carried away. I needed a brain reset for ch 4 and this is what happened lol. Enjoy!
If I Was A Bucket I Would Be 10% Happier @hellagayformyself - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
origamiaround
jacobvanloon
izzy806
discoholicmusic
theartofmadeline
blakekathryn
snowghoul
